He fiercely criticized the Manchu scholar clique and the twelve emperors of the Qing Dynasty.

The incandescent light bulb in room 302 emitted a steady glow.

Zhao Shuyao sat at his desk, swallowed the last bite of his boxed lunch, pulled out a tissue to wipe his mouth, and casually crushed the plastic lunchbox before throwing it into the trash can under the desk.

The phone screen kept lighting up, with push notifications from various apps filling the lock screen. His account had nearly two million followers, and his private messages were filled with sky-high signing contracts from dozens of MCN agencies.

Zhao Shuyao didn't even glance at it, simply flipped the phone over and placed it face down on the table.

Popularity is a weapon, but he is well aware that what keeps the weapon in a deterrent position is always a continuous supply of high-quality ammunition.

If a historian stops at this point to count his money or flaunt his victory, then everything he has accumulated in his past life will become a joke.

Hold the mouse in your right hand and use your index finger to open a blank document on the computer desktop.

The cursor blinks rhythmically in the upper left corner.

Zhao Shuyao focused his gaze and began typing. In his previous article, he had already exposed Puyi's exploitation of the people in Northeast China and his sale of national treasures.

Today, he wants to completely shatter the facade of chastity that Puyi erected for himself in his memoirs, a facade built on the belief that he was "forced into it."

The sound of typing filled the quiet dormitory with a crisp, clear echo.

Title generated: "The helplessness of nonsense: The servile manner of the last emperor as seen from his coronation ceremony".

Zhao Shuyao's mind raced, and his fingers typed out the first paragraph of the main text on the keyboard: "Many people who like to read the autobiography of the last emperor are always brainwashed by his rhetoric of 'I am a victim swept up by the times'."

"Today, we won't talk about grand narratives, but let's look at Puyi's specific behavior on March 1, 1934, the day he took office as the 'Emperor' of the puppet state of Manchukuo in Changchun."

As he typed this, a hint of mockery flashed in Zhao Shuyao's eyes, and a thought crossed his mind: "He's full of helplessness, but his actions are even more honest than Wangcai's."

Cut out the document, open a folder, accurately locate two scanned images from hundreds of old photos, drag and drop them into the document, and arrange them.

"Did you see these two photos?" Zhao Shuyao continued typing. "According to the archives, before the enthronement ceremony, Puyi asked Hishikari Takashi, the commander of the Kwantung Army, to wear the dragon robe of Emperor Guangxu for the enthronement."

"The result was a firm refusal. The Little Days People clearly told him that Manchukuo was a newly established country, and he had to wear the Little Days General's uniform."

"What did Puyi do?"

The force of my keystrokes involuntarily increased.

"He pleaded repeatedly, even bringing up ancestral rites and laws. In the end, the Japanese threw him a bone—they agreed that he could wear a dragon robe when he offered sacrifices to Heaven in the suburbs, but for the formal enthronement ceremony in Xinjing (Changchun), he had to wear the Grand Marshal's uniform prepared by the local officials."

Zhao Shuyao sneered, his fingers still moving.

"Friends, this is the last emperor who, in the eyes of some, has a special identity and a tragic fate. By wearing this uniform, he has made his attitude very clear. By ascending the throne in a Japanese military uniform, he is essentially announcing to the world that he is a subject of the Japanese Tengu."

"There was a famous puppet emperor in history named Shi Jingtang, who recognized the Khitans as his father and ceded the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan and Yun. But at least Shi Jingtang held military power in his own territory, and his decrees could be issued from his own palace. What about Puyi?"

"At his so-called coronation ceremony, he didn't even have the right to decide what clothes to wear. Logically speaking, he's not even a puppet emperor; at most, he's a day laborer looking after the property in Northeast China for his little family."

After finishing this section, Zhao Shuyao stopped, picked up his water glass and took a sip. He needed to use a sharper perspective to tear apart the fig leaf of this historical nihilism.

Put down the water glass and put your hands back on the keyboard.

"In his autobiography, 'From Emperor to Citizen,' Puyi wrote that he was forced into this situation to save his life. This is the reason given by someone who had read countless classics and received a full royal education."

Zhao Shuyao typed three question marks, then wrote:

"At a critical juncture when this country faces life or death, what normal Chinese person would go to the Japanese to beg for that 'dog-skin plaster' of dignity?"

"You say you have limited abilities, you say you have no real power, fine, let's look at the history books."

"At the end of the Southern Song Dynasty, Lu Xiufu carried the young emperor and jumped into the sea. At the end of the Ming Dynasty, Shi Kefa refused to surrender and died for his country when Yangzhou fell. Like Puyi, they were dealt a bad hand and ended up with no way out. Did they save the dynasty? No, but that does not prevent later generations from building shrines and temples for them for hundreds of years."

"Because everyone has their own sense of right and wrong. Lack of ability is due to the circumstances; but whether one is resilient or not is a personal choice."

"Puyi had a million ways to preserve his dignity. He could have even chosen to live as an ordinary retired gentleman, but he chose the most despicable path—trading the dignity of millions of people in Northeast China for his own simple life as a marshal."

"The conclusion is simple: he wasn't helpless; he was just extremely selfish and inherently spineless."

Finally, type a period.

Zhao Shuyao scanned the entire article from beginning to end. The logic was impeccable, the photographic evidence was irrefutable, and the language was humorous and full of sarcasm. There was no nonsense, only concise and to the point.

Move the cursor to the publish button and click the left mouse button.

The backend system indicated that the posting was successful.

Zhao Shuyao didn't refresh the page to see the rate at which comments were flooding in. He was absolutely certain that once this article was published, countless historical illiterates who were trying to whitewash Puyi would break down tonight, but he no longer needed to worry about that.

He stood up and pulled out a chair.

Zhao Shuyao walked to the washbasin stand at the dormitory entrance, picked up a towel and face wash, and turned to walk into the common washroom on the floor.

Turn on the tap, and the icy tap water washes over my face.

He looked at himself in the mirror with a calm expression, showing no arrogance despite the online frenzy. He was scheduled to be interviewed by CCTV's "Face to Face" program at 1:30 pm tomorrow.

That is a national-level platform that can truly transform his academic ideas into social consensus.

After wiping the water off his face, Zhao Shuyao walked back to his dormitory.

He climbed into bed, pulled the covers over himself, and closed his eyes. He needed plenty of sleep to keep his brain functioning at high speed the next day. In less than ten minutes, his breathing became even and deep.

……

At the same time.

The city of Sijiu, 800 kilometers away from Fengtian.

Inside a penthouse suite at a private club with a strict membership system.

The indoor temperature control system operated extremely quietly, and the air was filled with the scent of top-grade agarwood. In front of a rectangular rosewood conference table sat twelve people: three women and nine men, including two blond-haired, blue-eyed white men.

The atmosphere in the private room was extremely oppressive.

A middle-aged man in a custom-made suit sat upright to the left of the main seat, twirling a pair of walnuts in his hands, making a soft grinding sound. He was a producer at a large cultural media company in Beijing and a key investor in several hit Qing Dynasty dramas featuring male protagonists in recent years.

"That Dongyuan University student named Zhao Shuyao just published another article, which is still targeting Puyi."

A long-haired woman with curly hair, sitting opposite the man in the suit, spoke up. She was a top public relations strategist in the industry, tapping her fingers on the tablet screen in front of her.

"We can't just let him ride on our necks and attack like this." The woman spoke quickly, with a hint of impatience. "Old Yan has already stepped down. If we let this young punk continue fighting like this, we'll completely lose the dignity of the historical and cultural circle that we've cultivated for decades."

"What do you mean?" The man in the suit stopped eating the walnuts and looked at the woman.

"Use the old method." The woman leaned forward, her eyes sharp. "Even a student who hasn't graduated yet, no matter how clean their background, will have loopholes. I'll find a few professionals to go to Fengtian and set up a scheme, targeting either funding issues or personal conduct issues."

"Once he falls into the trap and we have video evidence, we can completely destroy his online persona. At that point, in order to protect his future, he will have no choice but to obey."

The woman picked up the bone china teacup in front of her, took a small sip, and seemed quite satisfied with her plan.

The meeting room was silent for a few seconds.

"madness."

To the right of the head of the table, another man who had been silent until now let out a cold laugh.

The man wore frameless glasses and a high-quality gray Zhongshan suit. He was not in the entertainment industry, but the actual controller of an academic exchange foundation.

The woman's expression changed, and she slammed her teacup down: "Mr. Li, what do you mean?"

The man in the Zhongshan suit didn't look at her, but instead scanned the people present.

"Is there no other logic in your minds besides finding someone to film you and seize on your incriminating evidence?" The man in the Zhongshan suit spoke with a condescending disdain.

"Go check out the video that Southeast University posted this afternoon. The student named Zhao Shuyao turned down his spot to stay at the university in front of the vice president. He is an extremely rational person who knows how to maximize his interests within the framework of the rules."

"You sent someone to set him up? Do you believe he could record it on the spot, hand it over to the police, and then casually release a science video with millions of views?"

The woman frowned and retorted, "So we're just going to stand by and watch him do this? How can we face our ancestors if we do that?"

"You need to figure out where our real crisis lies."

The man in the Zhongshan suit pulled a data report from his briefcase and tossed it onto the rosewood table. The report slid a short distance before coming to a stop in the center.

"Take a look at this." The man pointed to the report cover. "This is data monitoring of the domestic cultural consumption market over the past three quarters."

Everyone turned their attention to the document.

"Have you noticed that there are more and more young people like Zhao Shuyao online these days?" The man in the Zhongshan suit pushed up his glasses. "It's not just about historical discussions; go look around on the streets and see how much the number of young people wearing Hanfu has increased."

He raised his right index finger and recited a series of numbers.

"Last year, the market size of the Hanfu industry in China was over one billion yuan, and this year's forecast data shows that it has doubled. Correspondingly, the ratings and discussion of the TV dramas and movies that we invested in and produced, which feature characters with queues and so-called Qing Dynasty style, are declining."

The middle-aged man's words seemed to lower the temperature in the conference room by a few degrees, and the two white executives also stopped writing and looked up.

"What this means, I don't need to explain, do I?"

The man in the Zhongshan suit rested his hands on the table.

"Zhao Shuyao was just a catalyst. Behind this is a comprehensive awakening of cultural awareness among this generation of young people. They are beginning to reject what we feed them, and are starting to look for the truth in county annals and historical scraps. They are rebuilding their cultural identity!"

The man in the suit's walnut started spinning again: "Mr. Li, are you saying that simply ruining him personally is useless?"

"Of course it's useless." The man in the Zhongshan suit sat up straight. "Even if you bring down Zhao Shuyao, there will be Li Shuyao and Wang Shuyao who will step forward. That account of that idle person from the History Department of Dongda University has become a symbol."

"So what should we do?" the PR woman asked.

The man in the Zhongshan suit picked up the purple clay teacup in front of him and blew away the floating tea leaves.

"The most effective way to deal with intellectuals is to defeat them culturally."

He took a sip of tea and put the cup down.

"Isn't Zhao Shuyao known for his rigorous historical research? Isn't he going to Suzhou during the May Day holiday to conduct on-site research on Ming and Qing tax archives? Then let's accompany him to explore his area of ​​expertise."

The man in the Zhongshan suit looked at the man in the Western suit: "Contact those so-called young historians we sponsor. Allocate resources to them and launch an academic debate online about the economic structure of Jiangnan during the Ming and Qing dynasties, using various dubious foreign documents and so-called 'modern economic perspectives' to deconstruct his historical materials."

"As long as we smear him with dirty water in academic debates and drag him into the quagmire of self-justification, ordinary netizens simply don't have the ability to distinguish profound academic materials. As long as we muddy the waters, his pure image of seeking truth will turn into a controversial figure of academic misconduct."